Chapter 058: The Sports Festival Ends, Hiyori: Wait, What About My Screen Time?
Hachiman stood a few steps behind her, remaining silent.
He followed her gaze—in that row of flowers, there were roses, lilies, daisies, and several bunches of flowers he didn't recognize.
Hiyori's gaze rested on one particular bunch. They were pale red flowers with petals as thin as paper, their edges slightly curled, glowing with a soft luster in the twilight.
"Looking at flowers?" Hachiman walked over and stopped beside her.
Hiyori turned her head, and seeing it was him, the curve of her lips deepened slightly.
"Hikigaya-kun. Yes, just looking at the flowers," she said.
"Do you like flowers?" Hachiman asked.
But Hiyori shook her head gently. "More than the flowers themselves, I like their flower language."
Hachiman looked at her, waiting for her to continue.
"Every flower has its own meaning." Hiyori's gaze drifted back to the flowers. "Roses represent love, lilies represent purity, daisies represent innocence. Different colors, different quantities, and different arrangements all carry different meanings. It's very romantic, but also very complicated." She paused. "But more than receiving flowers, I prefer knowing their meanings. So, just looking at them is enough."
Hachiman leaned against the pillar at the flower shop entrance, his hands tucked into his pockets.
He looked at Hiyori and suddenly felt that if it weren't for the special exams and class competition, he and Hiyori Shiina would probably get along quite well.
Not the kind of "getting along" that meant being "together," but the kind where they could "sit together reading books, occasionally say a few words, and neither would disturb the other."
She reads her book, he reads his, they spend an afternoon in quiet, and then they leave separately.
No need for conversation, no need for explanations, no need to maintain any sort of relationship.
That feeling was very comfortable, but he had never told anyone about it.
And the last person who gave him that feeling was...
Hachiman seemed to have fallen into his memories.
"What is Hikigaya-kun thinking about?" At that moment, Hiyori's voice drifted over.
Hachiman snapped out of it. "Nothing. I was thinking that if there weren't any special exams, we would probably spend the whole day in the library."
Hiyori blinked, then chuckled softly. "Perhaps."
Just then, a young clerk with a ponytail and an apron stepped out of the flower shop, holding a watering can. Seeing Hachiman and Hiyori at the door, she offered a professional smile.
"Would you two like to buy some flowers? Today's are very fresh. These poppies just arrived; the color is particularly beautiful."
Hiyori shook her head. "No, thank you, I'm just looking."
The clerk smiled, didn't press, and turned back into the shop.
Hachiman looked at the poppies. The petals were paper-thin, pale red, with slightly curled edges, gleaming softly in the sunset. Without overthinking it, he pulled out his phone and swiped it on the card reader at the door. The clerk heard the beep, turned around, and seeing that Hachiman had already paid, she paused in surprise.
"Sir, which bunch would you like?"
Hachiman pointed at the poppies. "Those."
The clerk took the poppies out of the bucket, wrapped them in paper, and handed them over. Hachiman took them and turned to offer them to Hiyori.
Hiyori froze. She looked at the bouquet, then at Hachiman, her clear eyes filled with unexpected surprise.
"Hikigaya-kun, you—"
"For you," Hachiman said. "It's not about the flower language; I just thought they looked nice."
Hiyori stared at the flowers for two seconds. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but in the end, she didn't. She reached out and took the bouquet. The wrapping paper rustled softly, and the petals trembled slightly at her fingertips. She lowered her head to look at the pale red petals.
Poppies.
The flower language includes "consolation," "farewell," and "great luxury." In Japan, there is a more common meaning: "gratitude." Not love, not a confession—just gratitude.
'However.
Hikigaya-kun probably doesn't know these things. He just thought the flowers looked good and bought them.'
Hiyori repeated this to herself in her heart, then held the bouquet to her chest.
"Thank you," Hiyori said.
Hachiman nodded. "I'll head off now."
He turned and walked toward the dormitories. Hiyori stood where she was, watching his back disappear into the twilight.
She looked down at the poppies in her arms. The petals glowed softly in the sunset—pale red, thin as paper.
She gently touched the petals, feeling their softness.
'Hikigaya-kun probably doesn't know the flower language of poppies.
So he bought them only because he thought they were pretty.
There is no other meaning. I shouldn't misunderstand.'
"..."
Thinking this, Hiyori hugged the flowers a bit tighter, then turned and headed toward the girls' dormitory.
When Hiyori entered the dorm building, the elevator happened to be on the first floor.
The doors were open; she walked in and pressed her floor button.
However, just as the elevator doors were about to close, a hand reached in, and the doors retracted.
It was Sakayanagi Arisu.
Still sporting her straight silver hair and delicate, cute features, Sakayanagi leaned on her cane with her left hand and held a small paper bag in her right. Her pace was unhurried, and the sound of her cane tapping the floor was exceptionally clear in the elevator.
She stepped inside, pressed her floor, and looked up, seeing Hiyori.
"Shiina-san." Sakayanagi's lips curled slightly. "What a coincidence."
Hiyori nodded. "Sakayanagi-san."
The elevator doors closed, and the numbers ticked from 1 to 2. The two stood on opposite sides, neither speaking. Hiyori clutched the poppies, the petals gleaming under the lights. Sakayanagi's gaze fell on the bouquet and lingered.
"These flowers are lovely," Sakayanagi said.
Hiyori's fingers pinched the wrapping paper slightly. "Thank you."
"Who gave them to you?" Sakayanagi's tone was casual, as if she were asking about something unimportant.
Hiyori was silent for a second. "I bought them myself."
Sakayanagi's eyebrows moved slightly. She looked at Hiyori, her purple-blue eyes holding a hint of speechlessness.
"Is that so," Sakayanagi said. "The flower language of poppies is 'consolation,' 'farewell,' and 'great luxury.' In Japan, some also take it as 'gratitude'."
Hiyori's eyelashes fluttered.
"I thought perhaps someone had given them to you," Sakayanagi retracted her gaze, watching her own reflection in the elevator door. "After all, this type of flower isn't something one would usually buy for themselves."
The elevator stopped at the 4th floor. The doors opened—no one entered. They closed again, and the numbers continued to jump.
"If it had been a gift from Hikigaya-kun," Sakayanagi's voice was calm, "how would you answer, Shiina-san?"
Hiyori's lips tightened. She didn't look at Sakayanagi, but kept her head down, looking at the flowers in her hands.
"Hikigaya-kun wouldn't do that," Hiyori said.
Sakayanagi glanced at her. "Why?"
"Because he is currently seeing someone." Hiyori's voice was very soft. "He wouldn't give flowers to another girl. Not even poppies, which have nothing to do with romance."
Sakayanagi was silent for a second. "You know who he is seeing?"
"Karuizawa-san from Class D." Hiyori's voice was calm. "Although he hasn't made it public, I assume you know as well."
Sakayanagi didn't speak. The elevator stopped at the 6th floor, and the doors opened. Hiyori stepped out, walked two steps, and then stopped without turning back.
"Sakayanagi-san."
"Yes?"
"If these flowers had been a gift from Hikigaya-kun," Hiyori's voice was very faint, "what would you think?"
Sakayanagi was silent for a few seconds. The elevator doors began to close in front of her, but she reached out and pressed the 'open' button.
"He wouldn't give them," Sakayanagi said. "Because he knows the flower language of poppies. Even if he didn't, he still wouldn't give them. He has Karuizawa-san now; he wouldn't do anything unnecessary.
He is, in fact, a quite responsible person."
In other words, Sakayanagi felt that since Hachiman had a romantic partner, he would not behave ambiguously with other girls.
Hiyori didn't reply. She just stood there quietly, holding the flowers.
Sakayanagi released the button, and the elevator doors slowly closed. The metal doors separated the two. Hiyori stood in place, staring at the closed door for several seconds. Then, she looked down at the poppies in her hand.
'Hikigaya-kun doesn't know the flower language of poppies. But he avoided roses—everyone knows the meaning of roses. He chose another bunch. It wasn't a coincidence; it was so he wouldn't let anyone misunderstand. So he is serious about Karuizawa-san.'
Hiyori processed this thought in her heart, then looked away and walked toward her dorm room.
She pushed the door open and placed the flowers on her desk. The light fell on the petals—pale red, thin as paper. She sat on the edge of her bed, looking at the bouquet for a long time.
Then, she picked up her phone and opened a chat log with Hachiman from a long time ago.
However, her fair fingers hovered over the screen for a few seconds before she put it down.
She didn't send anything.
The sports festival had ended.
But this, too, could be considered a new beginning.
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Three days after the sports festival ended, a new class notification was posted on the school bulletin board.
It wasn't a change of classrooms, just a change of names. The original Class B became Class C, and the original Class C became Class B. Two metal plates were taken down from the door frames by staff, swapped, and nailed back on.
The entire process took less than ten minutes.
As Hachiman passed by the bulletin board, he saw several original Class C students standing there, heads tilted up, looking at the notice.
"It's Class B!" a boy's voice came from the crowd, filled with obvious excitement. "We're finally not Class C anymore!"
"It's Class B!" another voice chimed in, filled with disbelief. "We really became Class B!"
Hachiman walked past them without stopping.
Because the same scene was happening in Class B—oh, wait, it was now Class C.
The atmosphere there, however, was surely dismal.
Who would have thought that Class B was originally his class, but looking at it now, perhaps Class B was destined to be cycled through.
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After finishing his Student Council work, Hachiman didn't dine with Karuizawa that evening.
Instead, he headed straight to the shopping street.
By evening, the lights along the shopping street began to turn on one by one.
Hachiman walked along the path alone, intending to have dinner at the Western-style restaurant. As he passed an izakaya, his footsteps slowed. Through the glass window, he saw two familiar figures.
Sakagami Kazuma sat by the window, holding a beer mug, his face wearing an expression of exuberant joy that Hachiman had never seen before. His glasses glinted under the light, and the corners of his mouth were stretched so wide they reached his ears. He was saying something to Mr. Mashima sitting across from him; his voice wasn't loud, but from his expression, he was in an incredibly good mood.
Mashima sat across from him with a cup of sake in front of him, untouched. His expression was calm, but Hachiman noticed his brow furrowing slightly. His class had dropped from A to B, and then from B to C. Twice in one semester.
It was actually pretty tough.
But Mashima said nothing, just sat there quietly, listening to Sakagami.
"Mashima-sensei," Sakagami raised his beer mug, his voice filled with irrepressible delight, "my treat tonight! Drink whatever you want!"
Mashima took a small sip of sake without speaking.
Sakagami put down his glass, pressed his hands on the table, and leaned forward slightly. "Honestly, from the first day I became a teacher, I never thought I'd be able to lead a Class B. I've led Class C for several terms, and every single one was at the bottom. This term—it's different." When he said this, his tone carried an indescribable sentiment. "Although we still couldn't make it to the top, at least we aren't in last place anymore. Class B. The salary and benefits have gone up, too."
Mashima looked at him, silent for two seconds. "Congratulations."
Sakagami smiled and raised his beer mug again.
Hachiman stood outside the window watching this scene, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly. He could understand Sakagami-sensei's mood. After leading Class C for so long, he had finally turned things around. Promoted to a higher class, better benefits, even the confidence in his voice was different.
Though, the person he was talking to was the original Class A's Mashima. To a certain extent, Sakagami-sensei probably didn't have many friends.
Hachiman pulled his gaze away and continued walking.
After a few steps, he saw two more familiar figures. Hoshinomiya Chie and Chabashira Sae were walking side by side, both carrying convenience store bags. Hoshinomiya walked in front, her pace light, humming some tune. Chabashira walked behind, her expression no different than usual.
Hachiman slowed his pace. Hoshinomiya-sensei was now the homeroom teacher for Class A, and her salary benefits had jumped significantly. Logically, she should be even happier than Sakagami. But she didn't look "exuberant" at all. Walking with Chabashira, she was just as she always was—laughing, chatting, occasionally stopping to look at new shops on the street.
It was as if this promotion meant absolutely nothing to her.
Hachiman leaned against a railing, watching their backs.
'Well, Hoshinomiya is already a distorted person, so there's no need to understand her.'
Hachiman looked away and continued walking. He suddenly thought of Kushida Kikyo. Kushida's emotions toward Horikita Suzune were somewhat similar to Hoshinomiya's toward Chabashira. Not exactly the same, but the feeling of "caring" and the feeling of jealousy were identical.
And the fact that he had to deal with two such pairs of people was pathetic enough.
And so, the month of the sports festival came to an end.
The time was September 1st, 7:00 AM.
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